A golden rule: to leave an incomplete image of oneself.

If we could see ourselves as others see us, we would vanish on the spot.

What music appeals to in us it is difficult to know; what we do know is that music reaches a zone so deep that madness itself cannot penetrate there.

Just as ecstasy purifies you of the particular and the contingent, leaving nothing except light and darkness, so insomnia kills off the multiplicity and diversity of the world, leaving you prey to your private obsessions.

What does the future, that half of time, matter to the man who is infatuated with eternity?

I saw that philosophy had no power to make my life more bearable. Thus I lost my belief in philosophy.

Time is heavy sometimes; imagine how heavy eternity must be.